


The Blackwatch Dating Playbook

by fabrega



Series: SALTapalooza [12]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Awkward Dates, Blackwatch Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega
Summary: Five times Gabe and Jesse's date gets interrupted, and one time it doesn't.





	The Blackwatch Dating Playbook

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smarshtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/gifts).



> Week Eleven of SALTapalooza! Today's prompt was "Five times (+1)", so please enjoy these six things!
> 
> This is a fourteen part series that updates on Saturday - just two more weeks to go! 
> 
> Feel free to come yell at [me](https://twitter.com/carithlee) or [smarshtastic](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic) about this on twitter!

**one.**

If anyone asks--not that they would, of course, but if they _did_ \--Gabe Reyes doesn't have feelings for Jesse McCree. Feelings would be ridiculous, for any number of reasons, something Gabe absolutely couldn't allow, and so feelings obviously aren't happening.

Since it's not happening, he can and should treat McCree like any other agent. He _does_ , as best he can: not giving him any preferential treatment, making sure that he isn't left out of anything just because Gabe finds spending time in close proximity to him and not kissing him a little bit agonizing. (Which Gabe doesn't, of course. Of _course_. That would be preposterous and unprofessional and a giant mess, so it _isn't happening_.)

This is how Gabe and McCree wind up seated next to each other in a small cafe in Zagreb. Several big-time arms dealers are meeting here this afternoon, and the Blackwatch mission is to confirm their presence and any deals they reach amongst themselves. They're easily spooked, though, and the cafe had been no help ahead of time, so Gabe and his team had improvised a plan--one agent would be seated with his back to them and a small but powerful camera in the back of his shirt collar, and another agent would be seated nearby and discreetly monitor the footage on a tablet. It's not a perfect solution, but it's the best they can do.

McCree would take the tablet, that part hadn't ever been up for debate. His lip-reading skills are not just the best of the team currently in Zagreb, but some of the best in Blackwatch, and he'll be able to get them the best real-time window into the situation. 

For the agent with the camera, the other four of them had drawn straws. Gabe had lost, or won, he's never sure what drawing the short straw is actually supposed to be. And so he's here, seated on McCree's left, stiff-backed so that the camera on his shirt can get all the footage they need. He has a copy of today's newspaper he's looking at but not reading, because on the table between them, McCree has grabbed Gabe's right hand in his left one and is idly running his thumb over Gabe's knuckles as he squints down at his tablet.

"Everything okay?" Gabe asks McCree in low, only slightly-strangled Croatian.

McCree frowns a little, gestures with the tablet, does not let go of Gabe's hand. "Yes," he says, his Croatian passable but not good. "Nothing yet."

The server comes over. She's been hovering for a while, refilling their mugs with coffee and presumably waiting to see if they want to order anything else. McCree keeps frowning at the tablet, not letting her break his concentration; Gabe feels McCree's thumb on his knuckles and goes ahead and sets down his newspaper and picks up his menu. He orders for both of them, four different kinds of pastry and more coffee when the waitress gets the chance. She smiles at him, annoyance tugging at the corners of her eyes but not making it down to her customer-service smile.

Gabe waits for her to return while McCree keeps staring at the tablet. "There's something happening tonight," McCree murmurs, still in Croatian. "I'm...place names are harder than words that I know."

"I know. You're doing great." Gabe gives McCree's hand a squeeze. It's meant to be reassuring, and it makes his own stomach flip unexpectedly.

McCree jerks, apparently startled too. This would be fine, if the sudden movement didn't knock him squarely against the poor waitress, who isn't expecting it and is currently carrying a tray full of pastries and a carafe of very hot coffee, which spills all over the table and all over Gabe. McCree jumps up, protecting the tablet, and Gabe jumps up too, swearing loudly in English. This attracts the attention of everyone in the cafe, including the arms dealers, who panic and start to flee out the back. McCree gives Gabe a look; Gabe, despite the surprise and the pain, knows exactly what he's asking and nods, and McCree takes off after them.

It's late by the time McCree finally makes it back to the hotel that's serving as their little base of operations. The other agents have turned in for the night, seemingly less worried about McCree than Gabe is. When he does show up, he grins at Gabe, a little loopy, and drops a duffle bag of grenade launchers onto the hotel bed. The undercover clothes he'd worn to the cafe are disheveled and, when he stands under the light, covered in blood, some of which looks like it might be his own.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gabe asks, the worry he's been feeling turning to anger as it exits his mouth.

"I chased down one of the arms dealers, I got the information I needed from him, I infiltrated the deal that went down tonight, and I brought back proof of the deal and the merchandise." McCree looks at him, smiling and expectant. They're authorized to do exactly none of that, although, in fairness, Blackwatch usually isn't.

Gabe doesn't tell McCree that he's essentially signed Gabe up for a good half hour of lecturing from the strike commander when they make it back to base. He doesn't tell McCree about the hours he sat up waiting for him or about the ribbing he'd gotten from the other agents for doing so. ("He's _fine_ ," Kepler had said. "Jesse's always fine, Reyes, stop worrying.") He doesn't tell McCree about what had happened at the cafe after he'd left, how the manager had gotten involved and been very apologetic and stressed to Gabe that _your food today is on the house, and the next time you and your boyfriend are here, the service will be unparalleled_ and how Gabe had gone hot in a way that had nothing to do with the coffee burns at the word 'boyfriend'.

Instead, he thinks about McCree's thumb rubbing across his knuckles and steps forward into McCree's space. McCree looks startled, and Gabe says, "Don't do that again." He means for it to sound stern, angry, but instead it sounds as distressed as Gabe's been feeling.

McCree's eyes search his face, and then he steps even closer and wraps his arms around Gabe in a tight hug.

Something unclenches in Gabe's chest, and both of them let out a shaky breath.

When McCree steps back, any vulnerability that had been on his face or in his voice is gone, and Gabe is careful to make sure that he's similarly stone-faced. "Not a great first date, was it," McCree says, his tone light and teasing.

Gabe scowls at him for a moment, but can't help the small smile that peeks through.

  
  


**two.**

After all this time, it feels like their first actual date ought to be anticlimactic. They've spent so long nearly dating, so long spinning through each other's orbits trying their damnedest to ignore and push down and deny their feelings for each other, that by the time they finally do admit it and kiss and get all the proper paperwork filled out, it shouldn't be a big deal. They've already done the hardest part; from here on out it can it be smooth sailing.

The universe, of course, has other plans.

Jesse shows up at Gabe's door, dressed nicely in the shirt and slacks they'd gotten him for the undercover thing in Dubai a few months back. He'd checked in with Gabe before he'd left on the Dubai mission, and it had been all Gabe could do not to kiss him on the spot then, overwhelmed by McCree's handsomeness and also his everything else. Overwhelmed by a similar mix of emotions now, Gabe lets himself rush forward this time, taking Jesse's face in his hands and kissing him soundly.

Jesse grins at him and says _you clean up real good_ when he pulls back, and it takes a lot of self-control for Gabe not to pull him into his room and miss their dinner reservation entirely.

It's important to both of them, though, this thing where they're actually dating like something approximating normal people, so off to the restaurant they go. Gabe's only been there once or twice before, when Morrison had needed his help wining and dining people from the UN, so this will be a first for both of them, in a couple of different ways.

The host smiles at them and leads them to a small table near the bar; Gabe squeezes Jesse's hand. They pick a bottle of wine and make silly small talk and Gabe's chest feels full to bursting--this is a date, a _real date_. It doesn't matter that they'd spent most of the last week shooting and torturing their way through the seedy corporate underbelly of several large Brazilian cities--here, they're just two nervous guys who like each other probably too much for their own good. 

Gabe's never really _dated_ before. He went from high school straight into the army straight into the SEP straight into the Crisis, never stopping to take much time for himself, never really even slowing down. He's not a blushing virgin, not by a long shot, but this sort of thing, where he takes somebody he likes out to dinner and probably kisses them some afterwards, that's not something he's done a whole lot of.

Under the table, Jesse hooks a foot around Gabe's ankle, and Gabe can't help but grin.

They order their dinner (Gabe lets Jesse pick, so they're both having steak) and talk about their days--and then a voice calls Gabe's name from across the restaurant, and they both look up to see Jack Fucking Morrison making his way over to them from the bar.

"What are you two doing here?" Jack asks, looming over the table. 

Gabe and Jesse exchange a look. "Are you… Did you not see the paperwork?"

"Oh!" Jack's face lights up, which is strange when Gabe had been hoping for something a little more chastened. He continues, "You're celebrating that medal McCree got put in for, right?"

"No, that's not--" Gabe sighs and rubs his temples. "What are _you_ doing here, Jack?"

"The UN delegation heads out tomorrow, and they insisted on a little send-off." Jack waves his hands dismissively. "Well, they're all sent off now! Good-bye! And good riddance!"

Gabe sighs again, more heavily this time. "You're drunk."

"I had _one_ glass of wine, thank you very much." Jack's tone is indignant, even as he grabs a fresh wine glass off a nearby table and helps himself to the bottle Gabe and Jesse had ordered. He pulls up a seat once he's poured.

"You know that's all you need, since SEP. It's always the same," Gabe says, rolling his eyes, "You have one glass of wine or beer or champagne at an Overwatch function, you get shitfaced drunk, and then you wake up the next day with a terrible hangover. The only thing worse than your alcohol tolerance here is your pattern recognition."

Jack Morrison, Commander of Overwatch, sticks his tongue out at Gabe and blows a raspberry.

Jesse gives Gabe a pleading look as the waiter returns with their steaks. Gabe bats Jack's hands away from his plate, takes a deep breath, and tries again. "That's not the paperwork I meant." He waits, hoping that Jack might have a moment of realization, but no dice. "Jack, this is a date."

Jack's eyes widen, and he looks between Jesse and Gabe in apparent disbelief. "A date? Really? You--" here he gestures at Gabe, "--and him?" He gestures at Jesse and makes a sort of a face.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Jesse's voice is low and dangerous, and he's moved his hands from the table to his lap, where Gabe doesn't doubt they're balled into fists.

Jack continues, seemingly unaware. "Oh, you know… He's an incredibly competent, ridiculously handsome asshole who literally saved the world, and you're--"

Gabe cuts in before any of them can find out how that sentence ends. "An incredibly competent, ridiculously handsome asshole who also saves the world? It's not hard to see why I love him."

"What?!" Jack says.

" _What_?" Jesse says, more softly.

Gabe's steak is suddenly very interesting. If the floor opened up and swallowed him right now, he really wouldn't mind.

"How much paperwork have I missed? Because if you're already at the point where you're saying that--”

"Okay, that's it." Gabe stands abruptly, grabs Jack's arm and manhandles him up and away from the table. "I'm calling you a cab and you are going back to base."

Jack makes a sarcastic face. "Why? So you two can enjoy your _date_? _Alone_?"

"Yes, literally exactly that. Come on." He drags Jack away from the table and out the front door. Jack leans up against the front of the restaurant while Gabe gets in contact with HQ and arranges transportation for the Strike Commander.

"So...you love him?" Jack says after a long, furious silence.

"That's none of your fucking business," Gabe grumbles.

"I mean, I _am_ your CO--"

"We are not having _that_ discussion right now, asshole."

"'s not what I meant." Jack goes quiet again. "It's just--he's the 17 year old gun-runner you insisted on pulling out of the Deadlock gang."

"He's _not_ , though. He hasn't been that for a long time." Gabe sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "He's somebody that I like, somebody that I trust, somebody I… Somebody I couldn't do this without."

"Somebody you love?" Jack asks. He comes forward to stand by Gabe on the sidewalk and leans drunkenly against Gabe's side.

"Still not your business," Gabe says, but his voice is a little more gentle this time. 

The car from the base pulls up then, and the uniformed agents inside help Gabe manhandle the Strike Commander into it. With that taken care of, Gabe turns back to the restaurant, pausing to square his shoulders and take a deep breath before heading inside. 

"Sorry about that," he tells Jesse as he sits back down at their table, forcing a smile. "Morrison is on his way back to base now, and--"

"You said you love me," Jesse says quietly.

"I--yeah. I do, I love you." He doesn't look at Jesse, doesn't give him a chance to get a word in. If this is going to be the one chance he gets to say this, he's going to say it. "So much it feels like my heart is going to bust out of my chest every time we're together. I know I shouldn't say so, on what's technically our first date, but after everything we've gone through to get here, I'm not going to lie about it. I spent too long not telling you how I felt. And you don't have to feel the same way now, or even ever. I won't--I know we just spent all that time on the paperwork, but if you want to end this now, I understand--"

"I love you too, Gabe," Jesse blurts. When Gabe looks up, shocked, Jesse has gone bright red. 

Gabe reaches across the table, grabs his hand and smiles.

"I mean," Jesse says with a shaky laugh, "We spent _all that time_ on the paperwork, it seems like a shame to give up on this now."

All in all, it's not the first date Gabe had hoped for, but it's perfect anyway.

  
  


**three.**

Gabe's not sure why he agreed to this.

Well, no, that's not true. He knows exactly why he agreed to this ridiculous outing: he's pretty much unable to say no to Jesse McCree. All it takes is one lopsided smile, and Gabe's there, whatever 'there' is. 

In this case, 'there' is an outdoorsy date, a hike Jesse had planned on their day off. Gabe had asked what was wrong with their usual dates--dinner and maybe a movie or, occasionally, a morning spent in bed--besides how infrequently their jobs allow them to make the time, and Jesse had gestured vaguely and said something about how he hoped Gabe wasn't bored. Gabe hadn't been bored, isn't bored at all with Jesse, loves every minute they spend together no matter what they're doing. But if Jesse wants to switch it up, Gabe is more than happy to give this a try.

They're surrounded by trees, soft sunlight making its way lazily through the leaves. Birds swoop among the branches, and Gabe can hear what sounds like a stream babbling away somewhere nearby. Jesse's a little ways ahead of him on the hiking trail, wearing a backpack and hiking boots, and Gabe is following behind him, doing his best.

"I don't know why I agreed to this," Gabe grumbles, mostly teasing, mitigating the grumpiness of his tone with a smile he can't quite help.

"We've been cooped up on base for weeks now," Jesse says, "Planning and running that op for Shimada and his people. We went three straight days with no sleep at one point, never mind seeing the sun. Figured it would be nice to get out, stretch our legs, get some fresh air, spend some time together where nobody's life depends on it."

Gabe can't argue with that. The trail is a gentle slope, the woods are quiet, and Jesse drops back to walk alongside him, holding hands. He keeps sneaking glances at Jesse, still a little overwhelmed by how much he loves him. (Once, Jesse catches him looking and kisses him, which is not incentive for Gabe to keep trying to be sneaky, not in the slightest.)

Eventually the hiking trail leads them to the little stream Gabe had been hearing, clear water burbling along over a bed of smooth rocks. Jesse huffs a laugh and looks at Gabe. "Always wanted to kick off my boots and go wading in a stream like this when I was a kid," he says.

Gabe laughs. "Not much of that in the desert, is there." Jesse shakes his head. "Not much how and where I grew up either. Maybe now's our chance."

They're soon barefoot and up to their ankles in the clear, cool water. Jesse pulls him close with a little splash and kisses him, and Gabe pulls him even closer.

As Jesse wades further down the stream, Gabe's stomach starts to grumble. There's a bush on the other side of the stream that's practically dripping with bright red berries, and Gabe glances at Jesse and then at the bush again. 

His stomach grumbles more loudly.

He may not be a wilderness boy scout, but he's also not an idiot--he snaps several photos of the bush and its berries and runs them through the Overwatch survival app on his comm. It chugs for a second before bringing up a stock photo of the bush and a bright green banner that says SAFE TO EAT. Gabe squints at the photos, double-checking, before shrugging and popping a berry into his mouth. It's a little bit tart and just as juicy as it had looked, and he eats a whole handful quickly.

Jesse wades back and grabs a berry out of Gabe's hand, tossing it up in the air and nearly snapping it up before he stops and looks a little closer. "You bring these with you?"

"No, but they're tasty and my comm assures me that they're safe, so you're welcome to have some if you want." Gabe holds his hand out to Jesse, but the movement somehow seems to throw him off balance, and he sways on his feet a little.

Jesse peers at him with concern. 

"Should my lips feel tingly?" Gabe asks, and the concern on Jesse's face grows. He grabs a few more berries from Gabe and drops them into a small plastic bag he pulls out of his backpack, then ushers Gabe out of the stream and helps him put his shoes back on. Gabe tries to protest that he's more than capable of putting on his own shoes, but the tingly feeling in his lips is spreading into the rest of his face, which is more than a little distracting.

Once they're both fully kitted up, Jesse tucks himself under Gabe's arm and steers them both back down the trail. "I'm sorry I ruined our date," Gabe mumbles. He's feeling light-headed now, and at a certain point Jesse gives him a long look and then somehow bodily picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. It's kind of hazy--Gabe remembers being thrown over Jesse's shoulder, remembers suddenly being at the bottom of the trail, remembers the hum of the transport as it lands in the clearing and the look Jesse gives him as they load him into it. Jesse kisses his forehead, and he falls into unconsciousness.

He wakes up in the Overwatch infirmary. A number of tubes and wires are attached to him, there's a machine gently beeping in time with his breathing, and Jesse is asleep in a chair next to the bed. He looks so peaceful that Gabe doesn't want to wake him, especially not after how worried he'd been--apparently rightly--on their hike back down. Gabe did this to them, and Jesse deserves a break.

The beeping speeds up now that he's conscious, and the change in the ambient noise of the room makes Jesse start awake. He looks panicked for a long moment (and Gabe feels even guiltier about that) and then his eyes focus on Gabe. Gabe tries to smile at him.

"You're okay," Jesse breathes. He reaches out to take Gabe's hand where it sits on the bed between them, like Gabe has done a hundred times before when Jesse's been hurt--it's a little strange, to be on this side of the interaction.

Gabe grips his fingers and squeezes. "I survived the Omnic Crisis. It's going to take more than a handful of berries to bring me down."

Jesse's laugh doesn't sound convinced. It looks like he wants to say something more, but then Dr. Ziegler enters, flanked by several nurses. She's obviously been summoned by the change in his vitals, and the nurses busy themselves with the machines he's currently hooked to while she looks down at the tablet she's holding and then up at him.

"Commander Reyes," Angela says, a stern look on her face. "What kind of trouble have you and McCree been getting yourselves into?"

Gabe raises his free hand in surrender, lifting the other a little ways off the bed without letting go of Jesse's hand. "I swear to god, the survival app said those berries were safe to eat."

"They _are_ safe to eat," Angela says, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Unless you're allergic to them, which it turns out that you, Commander, are. Your allergic reaction combined with your enhanced physiology caused your whole system to go haywire; you are lucky they were able to get you back here before your reaction got any worse."

Gabe looks at Jesse, overwhelmed again by how much he loves him. "You keep saving my life," he says.

"Ain't ever intending to stop," Jesse says, smiling.

Angela, always professional, groans good-naturedly at them. "Why must you do this?" she asks, moving to the side of the bed by Jesse to examine Gabe's monitors herself.

Jesse leans his head towards her and gives her his best big, moony eyes. "Doc, we're in love."

The noise she makes this time is a sort of disgusted half-groan, half-snort, and she shoves Jesse's head away, not particularly roughly. "Well, next time maybe you two could try being the sort of 'in love' that doesn't bring you to see me on your day off, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Jesse pulls his hands back into his lap and folds them there like a contrite child. Angela hides a smile, then turns her glare at Gabe, who echoes _yes ma'am_ too.

"You'll be okay," she tells Gabe after looking over all the monitors and running a few tests. "You just need some rest." She gives Jesse a pointed look, and then she and the nurses file out of the room.

When everyone else is gone, Jesse crowds up into the hospital bed with Gabe, curling around his side and nuzzling close. More than anything Angela had done, this makes Gabe feel better.

  
  


**four.**

"So, when you asked me if I wanted to go to a tropical island for my birthday, this ain't exactly what I had in mind when I agreed," Jesse mutters into the comms.

Gabe, some six thousand miles away at HQ, sighs. He's watching Jesse on the flycams as Jesse traipses through the jungle, his gun in one hand and an actual goddamn machete in the other.

In fairness, this had not been what Gabe had in mind when he'd offered. At that point, the mission had looked drastically different: they'd have been going undercover as a married couple, together, at a resort on one of the island's beaches. There still would've been work to do--the leader of a violent militia group wasn't going to take down himself, even on vacation--but the work would have been interspersed with room service and drinks on the beach and more than a little vacation sex. 

Then the Blackwatch mole in the militia group had gone dark, and the mission had pivoted from an assassination to a much more urgent extraction. They'd pulled in more people, and they'd needed Gabe at HQ in the command center, so Jesse and his team--Valdez, Shimada, and Prithi--are making their way through the jungle to the last known ping they'd gotten from the missing Blackwatch agent and Gabe is...here, by himself. He's got a channel he can use to contact all the agents on Jesse's team, and a separate one he and Jesse are using.

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind either," Gabe tells Jesse. He moves the flycam in a circle around Jesse, pausing it briefly behind him to admire his ass. "I'll have to make it up to you."

"Oh yeah?" Jesse winks at the flycam--how does he _do_ that, he's not supposed to even be able to tell where they are--and his voice gets quiet and a little bit sultry. "What did you have in mind?"

Gabe looks around the control room. He's in here alone; he has been managing the mission on his own, and the timezones mean that most of the rest of the base is asleep right now. He's got flycams on the other agents too, each of them making their way through the jungle as well, split up to cover more ground but slowly converging on the same point. No one can hear him now but Jesse, so if he _wanted_ to--

"I have a couple ideas," Jesse says in his ear.

"Oh yeah?" Gabe shifts in his seat, gets...comfortable.

"Well, I mean, I'm assuming that the original offer of a tropical island getaway is off the table at this point, so we'll probably be back at base."

"Seems likely."

"That's fair; I know how tight the budget is. Just means I'll have to get you in your quarters to have you all to myself. Thinking I'll pin you to the bed and do that thing with my tongue that you like."

"I thought this was supposed to be me making it up to you?" Gabe says, shifting a little more in his seat as he thinks about that thing that Jesse does with his tongue.

"It _is_ you making it up to me: I like doing that thing with my tongue, and you don't let me do it very often. I like when you come apart for me. I like being able to do that."

Gabe shivers. He casts a glance at the other agents' flycams--no change, still just a fuckton of jungle--and reaches down carefully to press the heel of his hand against his hardening dick through his pants. 

"That's one idea," he finds himself saying low into his headset. "But you said you had a couple."

On the flycam, Jesse grins. He keeps talking, his descriptions of what exactly he's going to do to Gabe and what exactly Gabe is going to do to him sending a thrill down Gabe's spine. At one point Jesse stops up short and switches comm channels to bark an order to Shimada and Valdez, no nonsense, completely professional, and _that_ turns Gabe on more than a little too.

Gabe can be professional, and he _is_ ; he's watching all the cams as Jesse keeps up the dirty talk. The life of one of Blackwatch's own is potentially on the line here, and Blackwatch doesn't leave anyone behind. If anything was to go wrong, he could and would switch gears at a moment's notice, but for now, Jesse's voice is sultry in his ears, and--

The lights in the control room come on and a hand taps his shoulder. Gabe wishes he could say that he reacts professionally, that he responds to this potential threat calmly and with force. He can't say that, though. He jumps about three feet into the air and pulls his headphones off and slams them on the desk. When he spins in the chair, he sees Ana standing behind him.

"Hello, Gabriel," Ana says. The amusement in her tone only serves to make Gabe more annoyed at his own outsized reaction. "My debrief just finished up, and Jack told me I could find you down here--he said McCree is out and you'd be up, glued to your screen and worrying."

"Yes," Gabe says carefully, "Worrying, that's what I'm doing." He crosses his legs, then uncrosses them again; both ways feel way too obvious.

"McCree is more than capable of dealing with whatever gets thrown at him." Ana squeezes his shoulder again. "You shouldn't worry."

"I wouldn't have sent him if I didn't believe he could do it. But things can always go wrong." Gabe casts a look across the flycam monitors again--everything is still going according to plan, but his agents have to be getting close to the militia's compound. Their plan is based on information from the missing agent and what little they could glean from satellite images. If it goes well, Jesse and his team will be in and out with the missing agent before the militia even knows they're there. If things go poorly, well.

"Shouldn't you be listening in?" Ana asks. She gestures at the headset Gabe had deposited on the desk. She's right, of course, and before Gabe can give an explanation or an excuse, she grabs the headset and puts it on.

On the flycam, Jesse is still talking. It would be too much to hope for that he would've noticed Gabe's apparent silence and stopped, wouldn't it.

Ana listens for a moment, and then her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"I can explain--" Gabe says. He grabs for the headset, but Ana steps out of reach, still listening.

"My goodness!" Ana exclaims, her voice almost certainly getting picked up by the headset mic. "The things you boys get up to!"

 _Now_ Jesse stops. On screen, Gabe watches him mouth _ma'am_ , and then a lot of words quickly that Gabe isn't able to follow. Ana says nothing, just listens, making vaguely affirmative noises, and then hands the headset back to Gabe.

Gabe ducks his head inside it quickly and says, "You gonna be okay for a few minutes without me?"

"Never figured that the thing that was gonna kill me in the jungle would be embarrassment, boss," Jesse says in a pained voice. "We'll hold at the edge of the compound if we haven't heard from you by then."

Gabe puts the headset back on the desk. "Listen," he begins, but Ana puts up a hand.

"I have almost certainly heard enough already, Gabriel." She laughs, and a little bit of the tension in Gabe's shoulders eases.

"This isn't--this isn't something we do all the time. This isn't something you need to be worried about."

Ana pats his shoulder. "I know. I know you, and I know Jesse. Neither of you would purposely do something to put your agents in any more danger than they have to be." She pauses, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement. "I assume I don't need to tell you not to do this again?"

"No, ma'am," Gabe says, straight-faced, although he breaks into a grin when Ana puts her hands on her hips. 

"Now, get back to your mission." Her voice and eyes go soft. "Bring your people home. And when you do, you rim that boy good--it sounds like he deserves it."

Gabe's face goes hot. "Jesus, Ana!"

"What, so it's okay for you two to say it, but not me?" Ana's face is the perfect picture of innocence, and Gabe laughs despite himself.

"Go to bed, Ana."

She winks at him as he puts the headset back on. "Good night, Gabriel."

Gabe shakes his head and turns his attention back to the screens.

"We, uh, we good to go, Reyes?" Jesse says, as close to 'all business' as he's been this whole mission.

"We're good to go." Gabe knows Jesse can't see him--that's not how the flycams work--but he smiles at the screen anyway. "Let's get going and get you all home."

  
  


**five.**

Jesse's still asleep when Gabe wakes up. That's not particularly surprising; a lifetime of early military mornings has conditioned Gabe not to sleep much past nine, while Jesse, left to his own devices, will gladly sleep past noon. More than once, Gabe has crawled out of bed over a sleeping Jesse for an early meeting or debriefing and found him, asleep, in exactly the same place when he got back.

This morning, though, Gabe has nowhere to be, by design. 

It hadn't felt very romantic at first, having to deliberately schedule time that the two of them could spend together with no other obligations--it ought to just happen, right? Marking it on their calendars felt like _pressure_ , like whatever happened in that four-hour block of free time had to be important, to be worth marking it on the calendar in the first place. But then he realized: if they didn't spend their scheduled free evenings reading on opposite ends of the sofa, their legs gently tangled in the space between them, secure in the knowledge that neither of them has anywhere to be, when were they going to get to do that?

This morning is one of their almost-mythical scheduled free mornings. It's been scheduled for almost two months. Jesse's back from a nearly three-week assignment in Monaco, and while he'd been gone, Gabe had gone five metaphorical rounds with Jack and Ana, about the mission reports his agents were turning in and two physical rounds of therapy with Moira, where not much progress had been made. 

They both deserve this break.

Gabe tips himself up on one elbow so that he can look at Jesse. He studies the lines of his face, the stubble on the curve of his jaw; he knows it all intimately, but he knows the kind of work they do, knows that there's always a danger that the next time one of them leaves on a mission could be the last time they see each other, knows that he never wants to forget Jesse's face.

"Go back to sleep," Jesse murmurs, not opening his eyes.

"Who wants to waste their free morning sleeping?"

"Me, that's who. I'm _tired_ , Gabe. Blackwatch put me up in a fancy hotel in Monaco with a big fluffy bed, and you know what? I slept like shit. I tossed and turned every night and wished I was back here, in your awful bed, with you. Now I'm _here_ ; please just let me sleep."

"I missed you too," Gabe says, leaning down to kiss Jesse. The annoyed noise Jesse makes is undermined more than a little by his contented smile and the way he kisses Gabe back.

"I'm not going to get any more sleep, am I."

"If you really _want_ to sleep, I can--" Gabe's cut off by Jesse kissing him again. They stay there, kissing slow and sweet, Jesse nipping at his lips whenever he tries to pull away, for a long while. They don't have anywhere to be

"I'm so glad you're back," Gabe says against Jesse's skin. "I really did miss you. I always do."

"Y'know, I know the guy who schedules the missions." Jesse winks. "I bet you could talk to him if you wanted me around more."

"Would you _want_ to spend less time in the field? I certainly wouldn't say no to having you around here more regularly." Gabe puts a little space between them--not that it takes much, he's been basically on top of Jesse for a while now.

Jesse's suddenly more serious, although whether it's the question or the sudden space, Gabe's not sure. "You mean personally? Or professionally too?" 

"Both? You've helped me write the Blackwatch playbook; having you in mission planning and in the control room to implement seems like it could only help. And I couldn't say no to having you here at the end of the day." Gabe pauses, kisses Jesse to fill the silence. "Only if you want to, though. You're great in the field too, and we'd need three agents to replace you."

The grin Jesse gives him is a little pleased, a little embarrassed. "I mean, I don't mind the fieldwork--I _am_ good at it, and I've only ever heard you bitch about the deskwork and administration side of things."

Gabe groans. Jesse's right, it... isn't his favorite thing. It might be better with Jesse around, but it's hardly worth making Jesse miserable to find out. "Guess I'll just have to keep waiting for you to get home safe, then," he says lightly.

"With this to come home to, I'll do my best to come home fast and safe, every time," Jesse says. He tugs Gabe closer and kisses him again. 

Then, with a mischievous grin, he rolls away from Gabe and burrows under the covers. Gabe laughs as he feels Jesse's goatee drag against the skin of his torso, reaching for him under the covers, but Jesse dodges his hands and kisses from his rib cage to his hip down towards his definitely-interested cock. Jesse nudges at it with his nose, the rasp of his facial hair along its sensitive length making Gabe shiver with anticipation. Jesse licks at Gabe's dick, from the base all the way up to the tip, where he tongues gently at the slit until Gabe can't keep the noise that's bubbling up in his chest inside anymore. He moans, and Jesse moves lower, nuzzling at his balls before kissing at the insides of Gabe's thighs and then, finally, tugging Gabe's cheeks apart to lap needily at his hole.

All of this is happening under the covers and is surprising to Gabe, who gasps a little with each of Jesse's movements; when Jesse starts to do that thing that Gabe likes with his tongue, he moans again, Jesse's name this time, repeated softly like a prayer. His hips twists to give Jesse more and better access to all the parts of him he could want.

Jesse takes his time, humming low against Gabe's skin, sounding content. They haven't had the time to do this, to do anything even close to this, in a long while, and Gabe is feeling--

On the bedside table, both of their comms start to chime.

Jesse's muffled voice drifts up from under the covers. "Oh, come _on_!"

"It's--" Gabe manages after a second or two, as Jesse pokes his head back out. "They can see our schedules. They know we're off. It must be something important."

Jesse flops down on the bed next to him and gives him a look. "I can't think of any asshole in Blackwatch or Overwatch that deserves my attention more than yours right now."

Gabe laughs and reaches for his comm. Jesse sighs and does the same.

The situation, it turns out, does require immediate attention from both of them. They make their way out of bed, pulling on clothes and still taking occasional quick breaks to kiss each other, and they fill each other in on what they'd been told about the situation--anymore, each of them gets half a briefing and they problem-solve it together as they tell each other the details.

Jesse pauses as he's lacing up his boots and gives Gabe another look. "Next time we're putting the comms on silent," he says, and Gabe can tell he's only mostly joking.

"It's the job," Gabe says, shrugging as he puts on his hoodie.

"I know. But maybe someday it won't be." Jesse looks away, then back to Gabe, who's smiling ruefully.

"Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Yeah," Jesse echoes, "Wouldn't that be nice."

(It's another two and a half days before they both make it back to the bed, but when they do, Jesse picks up right where he left off.)

  
  


**\+ one.**

Gabe feels the hammock sway, but doesn't open his eyes. The breeze off the lake and the sun on his face through the trees are too nice, and besides, he knows who it is, the only person it could be.

"Room for one more?" Jesse asks. Gabe cracks an eye open now to see Jesse standing next to him, smiling. Before he can answer, Jesse's climbing into the hammock with him. It's not a problem; Jesse's pretty nimble, and the hammock is definitely built to handle a small family's worth of weight. Jesse tucks himself up against Gabe's right side, the hammock dipping comfortably with their combined bulk. Gabe lets his left leg dangle over the side of the hammock, toes just touching the ground, rocking them gently back and forth.

"This is nice," Jesse says quietly, and Gabe has to agree. He's very deliberately not thinking about the situation that brought them here--the incident in Venice, the unending news coverage, the meetings and the damage control and the look of betrayal on Morrison's face, how they'd been basically ordered to smuggle themselves out of the base and take a little vacation until this all, hopefully, died down. If he can put all of that out of his mind, focus on the details of the next few days, of _right now_ , it's actually really nice. 

Gabe closes his eyes again, listening to the birds in the trees and the sound of the water, letting the sun and Jesse's body heat warm him through--it's cozy in a way he hasn't felt in a long while. The hammock rocks back and forth, back and forth, and he feels himself drifting off...

When he opens his eyes again, some time has passed, the sun shifting positions and casting different shadows in different places than before. Jesse is still next to him, tucked up under Gabe's arm; he's got a tablet propped on Gabe's chest and that focused look on his face that he gets when he's reading something he really likes. When he notices that Gabe's awake, he smiles at him and says, "G'morning, sunshine. Have a nice nap?"

"How long was I out for?" Gabe asks, yawning and stretching for a minute before kissing Jesse. The hammock rocks a little at the motion.

Jesse shrugs. "A couple hours. You were really out. Seems like you needed the rest."

Gabe can't _remember_ the last time he'd had a couple of uninterrupted hours in the middle of the day. Because he can't help himself, he asks, "Nothing on the comms?" Then he remembers--he'd left his comm in the house, buried somewhere deep in their luggage. It's probably not even turned on.

Jesse gives him an amused look. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that."

"Yeah, that's--yeah." Gabe kisses Jesse's nose, and Jesse wrinkles it at him in response. "It's hard to believe that there's space for us like this without interruptions."

"Kinda nice, ain't it," Jesse says, his mouth twisting into something like a smile. He sets his head back down onto Gabe's shoulder and goes back to his book. Gabe rocks the hammock gently again, looks out past Jesse at the lake and the sun that's setting over it. It's peaceful--no interruptions, no immediate obligations, just the two of them. It's something he'd become fairly certain only ever happened to other people.

He finds himself thinking he could get used to this. Maybe once everything works itself out back at Overwatch, they can start thinking about it. He'd like that, and he says as much to Jesse, whose smile goes a little happier, a little brighter. Gabe likes that too.

They watch the sunset.


End file.
